The paranoid android appears in the uk press (and in a quality broadsheet, not some tabloid pap)
"Do you believe in the power of rock'n'roll?" Gold Blade's John Robb does, and by the time he's asked us for the twentieth time, we do too. No fags or beer for John – the terrifyingly gym-hardened singer is as straight-edge as they come, his only crutch loud being fast and euphoric music.
If you don't know John Robb, you'll know his face. The boundlessly energetic musician, author, producer, journalist, model and TV star is the Mancunian with the brush-bristle quiff, comic-book cheek bones, superhero physique (at Gold Blade gigs, you could lay spread bets on how many songs he'll last before whipping off his fur bomber jacket and showing off his pecs) and a cheeky glint in his eye, who always crops up on those "I Love The Top Ten Of 1977 Punk" shows.
Gold Blade, however, is his main project: a shamelessly fundamentalist collision of The Ramones, James Brown and The Stooges, typified by the anthemic "Strictly Hardcore" and new single "AC/DC" (which concludes with a cheeky Angus riff). Throughout their set, Robb comes across like a rock'n'roll Billy Graham, bug-eyed and wired on adrenalin, slapping high fives with the front row and bellowing exhortations to join him in his devotion. His band of tattooed rockabilly rebels are backed by the tribal thump of not one but two drummers, both of whom are standing up.
Gold Blade may have their rivals in the testifying punk-rock-soul genre (notably The Make-Up and Jon Spencer Blues Explosion), but you won't see a more inspiring, thrilling, enlivening show from any of them
